


Shoot Love

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Hotch x Garcia [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Based on a Maroon 5 Song, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Consensual, Degradation, Degrading kink, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Facials, Fluff, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, Humiliation kink, Humor, Light BDSM, Office Sex, One Shot, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Romance, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Short One Shot, Smut, Song: Shoot Love (Maroon 5), Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: Garcia wants Hotch to be able to lose control with her. She figures the best way to do it is in his office with her on her knees under his desk.
Relationships: Penelope Garcia/Aaron Hotchner
Series: Hotch x Garcia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862245
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	Shoot Love

Professionalism was Hotch's one request, even though he knew it would be a challenge for her. Right now, their relationship was still under wraps from the team, not because they wanted to keep a secret, but because they wanted to enjoy these early stages for themselves without scrutiny. That meant that no matter how much Garcia wanted to, she couldn't answer the phone with, "You're speaking to the Queen of Orgasms." And according to Hotch, she was the queen of orgasms.

Which was why on an unusually slow day at Quantico, Garcia found herself more distracted that usual. She and Hotch had been enjoying the slow days, because that meant even slower nights together at his apartment. More specifically in his bed. Sitting at her keyboard, Garcia's thoughts were miles away from tagging the gore-filled crime scene photos. Instead, she found herself remembering last night.

When they had first gotten together after a few not-dates and then real-dates, Hotch was as reserved as he was in the bedroom as he was at work. He was very focused, detail-oriented, working only towards Garcia's pleasure. Being the target of Hotch's single-minded drive was overwhelming and flattering at first, not to mention exhaustive as well. After one particular session, Garcia couldn't sit comfortably in her chair at work for a week, and she even had to wear a scarf in August, claiming she was just ready for the fall weather. But now as Garcia daydreamed, tip of her pen between her teeth, she found herself wanting to return the favor.

See, Garcia could be bratty at times, but she was just as much of a giver as she was a taker in the bedroom. She had a feeling that when she and Hotch started dating that he'd take the traditional, doting boyfriend role, which she loved. Sometimes, though, she wanted to be the one to take care of him, in more ways than just reminding him of Jack's doctor appointments and filling his coffee cup in the morning.

Nibbling on her glittery pink pen, Garcia's mind started to drift towards just how exactly she'd like to take care of Hotch. His oral skills were phenomenal, much better than one ever could have guessed from a mouth so stern. Just remembering last night where all Hotch's hands had to do was pin her thighs to the bed like the wings of a butterfly so he could work his tongue around her clit had Garcia squirming in her chair. She was sure that she was going to soak through her panties and tights in no time at all if she didn't calm down; but she couldn't calm down when all she wanted to do is show off her own oral skills to Hotch. She had yet to do so when he kept her so occupied.

Her lips wrapped around the end of the pen and sucked and she found herself sputtering for her trouble. She pulled her pen away and examined it, spitting bits of glitter and faux-feather as she remembered the glitzy decorative end that she had sensuously brushed against her cheek, picturing Hotch's cock instead. Tossing her pen aside, Garcia sighed, too warm and tingly to focus. Her teeth scraped over her lower lip as she considered how mad Hotch would be if she stopped by his office. The risk of her punishment later would definitely be reward enough.

Thoroughly tempted, Garcia was already pushing away from her precious computers before she had even made her mind up. When she stood, she felt a precarious trickle of her arousal drip down her inner thighs, causing her tights to stick to her skin in an itchy way. After she caught herself smoothing down her skirt and checking her hair and makeup in the darkened screen of a computer monitor, Garcia shook her head at her worry and walked out the door.

Peeking first through Hotch's opened blinds into his office, Garcia was pleased that he wasn't on the phone or in a meeting at least, instead just frowning at some paperwork as usual. After giving a cursory knock on his door and waiting for his even, "Come in," Garcia slid inside, closing the door behind her. As soon as Hotch looked up from his paperwork at her, she watched his frowny Hotch face melt away until it was just her Hotch again. "Penelope," he greeted her warmly, "Was there something you needed?" His eyes darted to the clock, and Garcia could see him mentally checking whether he worked through lunch again or if he was in trouble for staying late.

"Yes, Aaron, there is something I need," Garcia purred, not wasting any time. She closed his blinds for him and locked the door to his office. With those two actions, she could see understanding dawn on Hotch's face.

"Now, Penelope, we said we wouldn't do this at work," he said, treading carefully. While Garcia wasn't a profiler, though, she could also see how much he wished otherwise, judging by how his dark eyes already grew impossibly darker at the thought, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously over his collar.

That didn't stop Garcia from rounding his desk though, pushing Hotch back in his chair with a hand to his very firm chest. "Come on, Aaron, please? I'll make it quick." Her fingers toyed with his tie, admiring the contrast of color between her black nails and his red tie. This was one of her favorite ties, featured heavily in the fantasies that were still, for now, just in her head. She had more than just a few fantasies she wanted to act out with Hotch. "I just need to taste you."

"Taste me?" Hotch repeated, gulping again. His eyes kept fluttered between her face to her generously exposed chest as she leaned over him. He had reached up a hand to cover the one she had on his own chest, his thumb brushing against her skin.

The skin to skin contact was like electricity, exactly how everyone in love always describes it. Garcia dragged her hand down his chest until it landed in his lap. His cock was half-hard in his slacks already, and she squeezed it in her hand with a covetous grip. "Let me taste you, Aaron," Garcia whispered, ducking her head down until her mouth was right next to his ear. "I just want to take care of you." She latched her lips around his earlobe, suckling softly.

Hotch's responding sigh made her hair flutter against his cheek. Instead of answering aloud, he nodded and pulled his hands away until they gripped the sides of his desk chair. Underneath her palm, his cock twitched, and Garcia could imagine that he was staining the front of his boxers with precum about as much as she was dripping in her panties.

Snagging her teeth on his earlobe in a nip, Garcia pulled away and kneeled between his spread legs. "Thank you," she breathed, maintaining eye-contact as she started working on his belt, the metallic clinking like ringing a dinner bell for her. "You're definitely not going to regret this."

"No," Hotch agreed, his voice was husky and his eyes were as dark as whiskey, "but I am going to make it up to you when you're finished."

"You don't have to make anything up to me, Aaron," Garcia told him patiently. She flipped his tie behind his shoulder with a playful flick of her wrist before she started on the buttons and zipper of his charcoal gray slacks. "I don't have to come every time you do, and the same for you. This is about making each other feel good. Besides," Garcia bent over, rubbing her cheek against his thigh as she stared up at him from her new angle, "I know you'll always take care of me. I just wanna be able to take care of you."

With soft eyes, Hotch reached a hand down and smoothed back some of her fly-away bangs. "Is that what you call this? Taking care of me?"

Like a cat, Garcia butted her forehead into the palm of his hand. Though Hotch's hands were often rough from hard work and gun handling, his hands were always comfortable warm as well. Garcia wouldn't have him any other way. "This is just one way I can take care of you." She reached her own smaller hand into his open slacks, pushing down his sensible, blue plaid boxers until his cock sprang free. "I think you'll find that you'll like when I take care of you like this."

Shaking his head at her antics, Hotch leaned back comfortably in his chair, placing his hands on the armrests again. "No complaints so far," he mumbled, mostly to himself.

Garcia shot him a look before she wrapped her fingers around his cock. Her hand was still a little cold from her office, which had to be kept cool because of the computers it housed, but his cock only jumped in her hand excitedly. She pumped it in her fist, watching with enrapturement as it surged in her hand, impossibly harder. With her other hand, she slipped it inside his boxers, massaging his sac in her palm as she coaxed a drop of precum to ooze from the tip. Eyeing it as if it were a cherry on top of a cupcake, Garcia licked it away, and from the corner of her eye she watched Hotch shudder.

Smacking her lips at the taste, Garcia dipped her head down for more, planting teasing kisses up and down his cock between idle pumps. Still too much of a gentleman, Hotch only gripped his armrests harder, digging his nails into it until his knuckles were blanched completely white. As much as Garcia wanted to take care of him, she also knew that Hotch was a man who was constantly in control. He constantly managed his micro-expressions until he was stone-faced, but she wanted him to feel safe enough that he could let go of all of that with her. She'd just have to push him to that edge, and it was up to him to take the leap of fate.

Her kisses started to linger, suckling softly, though never where he really wanted as she deliberately avoided the crown. Her mouth slipped lower and lower down his cock until she was lapping at the base and pulling his boxers further down. On either side of her, Hotch's thighs were shaking, but she just planted her elbows on his knees and refocused her attention on him. When she pulled away to examine her handiwork, she admired how her pink lipstick had smeared on skin. "Hm, this pink isn't exactly your color," Garcia murmured her observation, "I think you'd look better in red. Maybe ruby red like that tie."

Above her, Hotch let loose a shuddering breath. "Penelope…" He trailed off when Garcia looked up at him, his face completely open and vulnerable. Still, he had a persistent knit in his brow that leant his expression to one of pain. "Please."

She smiled, lightly dragging the very tips of her nails over his cock that wept impatiently. "Please what, Aaron?"

He huffed through his nose, a muscle jumping in his jaw. This vein in his throat that only showed when he was shouting was valiantly trying to rise to the occasion as he tried to bite back down on his control. "Please take me into your mouth," he asked her, still somehow managing to ask in the most boring way possible, like asking her to pass the salt or to borrow a pencil.

"You mean like this?" She lifted one of his hands from the armrest and pulled it towards her face. Staring him in the eye, she slipped his first two fingers into her mouth, sucking hard until her cheeks were completely hollowed.

Hotch clenched his jaw even tighter, so much so that she feared he would crack a tooth, before his mouth dropped open in another sigh. "Please, Penelope." He pulled his fingers free, using them to tuck her hair behind her ears to keep it from tickling him. "Suck my cock."

Garcia's panties flooded in response, and she had to clench her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure. "Since you asked so nicely…" Her lips were still smirking when she wrapped them around the tip of his cock, tongue lapping at crown.

The change in Hotch was instantaneous as his expression shifted into one of relief. With a thunk, the back of his head hit the back of his chair as his face tipped towards the ceilings, eyes shut tight as he concentrated on the warmth and wetness of her mouth. He slipped his free hand towards the top of her head again, rubbing some of her silky tresses between his thumb and forefinger. When he realized that that was all she was going to give him, Hotch looked back down at her, barely able to not groan his frustration as he met her all too knowing gaze.

While Garcia refused to take him deeper into her mouth, she used one hand to pleasure the rest of him, twisting her wrist with every upward flick. It reminded Hotch of when she would grab a tube of yogurt from the fridge for breakfast on the mornings where they chose to take their time in bed and in the shower rather than actually getting ready. He choked at the thought of smearing his come on her face, something he really, _really_ wanted to do, the more he thought about how the yogurt somehow always managed to escape the corners of her mouth where he would lick it away.

As if she could sense his sense of control weakening, Garcia planted her free hand on his abdomen, rubbing lightly to get his attention. Once Hotch was able to focus on her face, Garcia smiled around the cock in her mouth and pushed forward until her forehead was burrowed against his belly. The muscles of his abdomen clenched and relaxed rhythmically as he fought against the urge to immediately come down her throat. He hadn't asked where she wanted it, but she said she wanted to taste him. Hotch wasn't yet prepared to give her more than a mouthful, though.

After holding him in her mouth and swallowing around his length, Garcia pulled up again and returned to suckling on the head of his cock as if nothing had changed. This time Hotch really couldn't hold back his snarl of frustration. Before he realized he was doing it, his grip on her hair had tightened and Hotch was pushing her down to take his cock back in her mouth. Once he realized it, though, he immediately released the grip he had and returned his hand to the armrest. His speech was garbled as he apologized, "I'm sorry, I – I shouldn't do that."

Garcia looked up at him, still suckling, and deliberately took his hand and put it back on her head. There was a challenge in her eyes, one that demanded something from him that he wasn't willing to give without permission. It seemed he had that permission now.

Repositioning his hand so that he gathered a generous handful of her hair into a ponytail, Hotch once again directed her to take him deeper into her mouth. At his rougher encouragement, Garcia finally took him down her throat again, gagging at the effort. The way the muscles of her throat contracted around him made him groan her name, and he couldn't stop the shallow thrust of his hips if he wanted to. Garcia gagged again, this time with tears in her eyes, and Hotch reached his other hand up to tenderly wipe them away.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He growled, pushing her head down again. "You wanted a mouthful of my cock until you choke on it, don't you? Such a little slut." Garcia moaned at that, expressing her approval. "You're such a slut that you couldn't wait for us to get home. You had to have my cock in your mouth right now, at work, where anyone could walk in on us and find you serving me."

Though, Hotch's words were harsh and the tone was the same as he used in some of his more aggressive interrogations, he still used his other hand to dab away at her tears and to wipe away the stray spit that spilled from the corner of her mouth. Occasionally, his fingers fumbled and smudged her glasses as the sensation of her mouth got to him, but he was still so attentive and Garcia felt so safe.

She could tell he was approaching his end, though, by how he started pushing her head down and pulling her hair up faster. By the end of it, his hips were nearly lifting in the chair, and Garcia's tingly lips felt sore from the stretch of fitting his cock in her mouth. There was an ache of arousal between her own legs that she was having trouble ignoring, but she would. Garcia was counting on her ache being satisfied later, when they were at home and she wouldn't have to bother to try to be quiet for him.

"You're such a good little cocksucker, my perfect, needy slut," Hotch gasped, nearly out of breath. "Fuck, I'm so close. Where do you want it?"

Garcia pulled away, and Hotch allowed her. Still stimulating him with her hands now, Garcia stuck her tongue out expectedly, her eyes way too innocent as she waited. It was that innocent look in her eyes that did it for Hotch as he finally tipped over that precarious edge. His first spurt of come missed her mouth completely and would have hit her in the eye if it weren't for her glasses. Garcia flinched and blinked protectively, but then she was laughing, still with her tongue half out, and that's where his next spurt landed perfectly. The rest of it mostly dribbled out on her chin and then dripped right on her cleavage, but Garcia didn't seem to mind at all.

As Hotch collapsed back in his chair in a boneless heap, Garcia tidied him away first, licking his sensitive cock clean before tucking him back in his slacks until he was as immaculate as he was before. Then she swung a leg over his lap, managing to straddle him as her skirt rode up her thighs, exposing more of her tights. She took off her glasses and licked them clean before leaning down and finally kissing him.

He let her lead the kiss, feeling appropriately drained. "Mm, love you," he mumbled and stroked his hands down her back.

"I know you love me, Aaron," Garcia chirped. "I love you too." She flipped his tie back into place and nodded, satisfied with her performance.

She went to get back up again, but Hotch stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Wait. Lean closer to me." A little confused why, Garcia leaned into his space and then squealed as he licked up the stray bits of cum that he left on her chest. After a sloppy kiss on her neck, Hotch leaned back again. "There. Now you're mostly presentable."

"Mostly?"

"Um, well, your lipstick is smeared. And you might want to fix your mascara," Hotch pointed out helpfully, looking bashful despite what they just did. "You're still beautiful."

And even though the stuff she and Morgan said to each other when they flirted were much more risqué than that, Garcia still giggled and flushed at the compliment. She slapped his chest and pushed herself off, smoothing down her skirt and her hair. "I'll just head to the bathroom and fix myself up a bit."

"Then it's back to work, Garcia," Hotch said, using his bossman voice.

"That's the plan." Garcia smirked at him, wagging her finger. "Good luck concentrating."

"Mhm." And though he just came, there was a low simmer still in his dark eyes. Garcia turned to go, unlocking his door and opening the blinds again. Before she could leave, though, Hotch stopped her, "Penelope?"

"Yes, Aaron?"

"You're not allowed to touch yourself until after I punish you tonight." Though what he said was menacing, there was a ghost of a smile lingering around his mouth.

Looking back at him over her shoulder, Garcia smiled, unbothered. "Looking forward to it."

On her way to the bathroom, Garcia was so distracted thinking of what she and Hotch would get up to, that she ran into her ex Kevin. "Oh, sorry, Kevin. My mind is elsewhere." _In the gutter_.

"Oh, that's fine. I should've been watching where I was going," Kevin waved it off.

Nodding, Garcia went to step around him when Kevin stepped in front of her, looking way too closely at her to be comfortable. "What? Is there something on my face?" She didn't quite snap.

"Uh, yeah, there kind of is." Kevin squinted. "There's some white stuff on your glasses there."

Before he even finished speaking, Garcia was whipping her glasses off of her face for inspection. Somehow, both she and Hotch missed the conspicuous white spot very visible on her glasses. "Oh, just something from my snack," Garcia babbled and licked it away. She rubbed her glasses on the cloth of her skirt for good measure before placing them back on her nose. "All good?"

Kevin had an odd look on his face, one of doubt. "Yeah, you're good."

"Oh, I know." This time she did manage to successfully get around him. "Bye Kevin."


End file.
